


Every little thing he does is Magic (for Jemma's hormones, anyway)

by phlebotinxm



Series: Fitzsimmons AU [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Fitzsimmons, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No SHIELD (Marvel), F/M, Jemma Simmons Has No Chill, Oral Sex, PWP, Smut, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:06:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29782764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlebotinxm/pseuds/phlebotinxm
Summary: Jemma was fine.Really, she was. She was doing fine, no matter what Daisy might think.Okay, she might be a little too hot, but she was doing fine. It was all Fitz’s fault, anyway.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Series: Fitzsimmons AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030545
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Every little thing he does is Magic (for Jemma's hormones, anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyylo everyone!
> 
> What can I say? I miss posting smut, and one of my friends actually sent me a picture of Iain de Caestecker playing football in one of his movies a few days ago, and I could not IGNORE the opportunity that was writing a smutty AU based on it. 
> 
> the title is VAGUELY inspired by The Police's "Every little thing she does is magic", just because I could. 
> 
> soooo.... well. I hope you will enjoy this little (not so little anymore though) thing, and please let me know if you did? xx

Jemma was fine. 

Really, she was. She was doing fine, no matter what Daisy might think. 

Okay, she might be a little too hot, but she was doing fine. It was all Fitz’s fault, anyway. 

Fitz, and his impossibly handsome features and perky ass as he jogged around the football terrain, smiling and screaming alike at his teammates. He was  _ so _ Scottish, she thought as he scowled at something Milton said, barely disguising his disdain for the man. Fitz had never liked Milton, but he liked him even less now that he’d learned that Milton had been interested in Jemma all the way through high school. They were at Uni now, but no matter how many years had passed, Fitz still held some serious grudges. Not that Jemma had ever given Milton a chance, anyway. She was much more interested in the moody Scottish genius in her science classes. 

Throwing another look at Fitz across the terrain, Jemma squirmed a little harder in her seat. She could still hear Daisy’s laugh reverberating in her head as she looked at her boyfriend, and most importantly his backside as he ran towards the other direction, giving her the most perfect view. She had no idea why football turned her on that much —after all, it wasn’t the most exciting sport in the world— but it definitely did, and Jemma Simmons didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding an explanation as long as she got to enjoy the view. Today however was more intense than the other times. She knew it was all probably because of the fact that she didn’t get to see him in a few days with all the training matches he’d gone to in preparation for this big one, but she was restless by the time the match was halfway done. 

Fitz’s team was winning, of course, and her boyfriend was positively beaming. She wanted to kiss that smirk right off his face, and maybe ride said face, too. Or suck his dick. She wasn’t exactly picky. She spared another glance at her boyfriend’s backside, thinking about the last time she’d dug her palms into it. Fitz had a very nice ass, and when she wouldn’t exactly admit it was one of the features she liked best about him, she couldn’t exactly deny it either. She loved that she got to grab it firmly whenever he pounded into her, his raspy voice and thick accent slurring the dirtiest words in her ears whenever he did so. There was nothing as sexy to Jemma as Fitz losing control. 

Lost in her thoughts, Jemma almost missed the goal Fitz scored. The entire stadium erupted into cheers when he did, and Jemma couldn’t help the smile that broke onto her face. The next thing she knew, Fitz turned around towards the place she was seated, and winked straight at her. Jemma nearly whimpered out of pure want. There was something about the way Fitz acted whenever he got a little cocky or simply confident, and she loved what it did to her. 

Sitting through the rest of the match was torture, mostly because of the way she kept working herself up with the mere images of Fitz running around the terrain and tugging on his sweaty jersey. Even the simple image of the shirt clinging to his muscles —his new, very, very appreciated arm muscles— made her shake out of anticipation on the bench. There was something in the way Fitz focused on the ball and on the game that made Jemma feel like she was a voyeur, because she  _ knew _ those looks of intense concentration better than anyone else in the world. Because she’d often seen those very same creased eyebrows and concentrated faces when he dived in between her thighs, clever tongue and fingers finding their route in her most intimate and sensible places. 

The rest of the match passed as a blur. Jemma was too focused on trying not to cringe at the way her panties were entirely soaked with want (embarrassing, really) and clung to her skin. She wanted to rush home, take a shower, and hopefully get to enjoy quality time with her boyfriend. She realized however as the game came to an end and Fitz was surrounded by his team, all the men cheering and hugging each other, that they would probably head down the pub to get a well deserved pint. Jemma wasted no time in slipping through the crowd, realizing that there was no way she would see Fitz before driving home. She could see her boyfriend’s mess of a hair in the crowd, but he was too busy hugging Hunter tight to pay her any attention. 

The drive home towards their shared flat was quick, fortunately. Less than 15 minutes after the end of the match, Jemma found herself in her bathroom, discarding her soaked undergarment and slipping under the hot spray. She had half the mind to touch herself —she wouldn’t have needed much at this point, her clit swollen and begging for attention— but she decided against it, simply washing away the wetness coating her inner thighs. She took time to shave carefully, applying some cream on her entire body afterwards. She loved the feeling after shaving, and Fitz adored the smell. By the time she walked into the bedroom entirely naked, half an hour had passed since she’d come home. Her phone that she’d left on the bed was buzzing, and she had just the time to see a few missed messages from the object of her thoughts before the screen turned black again. Picking it up, Jemma scrolled down her conversation with Fitz with a small smirk. 

She had approximately 10 minutes to find a way to seduce her boyfriend, then. Looking around the room, Jemma threw a look at Fitz’s closet. She hadn’t missed the way his eyes always darkened whenever she wore a shirt of his to sleep, and she believed she could finally play on this front. She’d stored the information to the back of her mind for a long time now, but never quite found the time to really think about playing with it. Now was her time to shine, it would seem. 

Opening the closet, she found herself faced with multiple shirts, and she realized she couldn’t quite choose which one she wanted to wear. There were so many different choices, and so many different textures that she imagined against her creamy skin, but nothing was quite what she was looking for. 

Until she saw it. 

It was perfect, she thought as she grabbed it, putting it on straight away. It was after all what had put her into this situation in the first place, and it felt almost poetic to end it the same way. Looking down at herself once the shirt was on, Jemma smiled. That would definitely do. 

* * *

“Jemma?” 

The front door opened and closed, and Jemma could hear Fitz toeing off his shoes in the entrance, keys rattling as he put them in the bowl by the door. She didn’t make a sound, simply lying a little more comfortably on the pillows of their bed. She sort of regretted changing the sheets two days ago. Because if her plans went well, she would have her way with her boyfriend and ruin those pretty baby blue sheets in no time. 

“Jem?” 

His voice was closer now, and Jemma couldn’t hold back a smile when Fitz opened the door and froze almost immediately.

His eyes fell on her, lying on the bed with nothing but one of his shirts on, her long hair cascading on her shoulders and pink lips ready to be kissed —and ravished. 

“Is that… Is that my jersey?” were the first words out of Fitz’s mouth after a handful of seconds of silence, his mouth hanging open comically. 

“It is,” Jemma said, tilting her head to the side. “it makes great pjs, doesn’t it?” 

Jemma didn’t think Fitz was aware of the low, growling sound that came out of his mouth as he watched his girlfriend from head to toes, staring at the expanse of her creamy legs. The bag he was holding fell onto the floor in a low sound, and Fitz forced himself to blink up at Jemma. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he said, swallowing hard. There was no denying his excitement as Jemma watched the bulge on the front of his pants. “And I haven’t had time to shower.” 

Jemma shrugged, digging her toes in the bed sheets and widening her right leg slightly. Fitz’s eyes fell between her thighs, and this time he didn’t hold back the choking sound he let out as he caught a glimpse of her bare pussy. 

“Who cares about showers anyway?” he blurted out, walking towards the bed in two quick strides before dropping to his knees in front of the bed. Grabbing Jemma by the hips, he pulled her to him in a rough movement that riddled the shirt up. 

“Do you like it?” Jemma asked breathlessly, feeling herself flush at her boyfriend’s reverend gaze. Fitz used his two thumbs to part her labia, exposing her to the cool air of the bedroom, and Jemma shivered from head to toes. 

“Do I— Jemma, you’re wearing my jersey. The jersey with my  _ name _ on it, currently plastered on you.” 

Jemma tried to ignore the thrill that rolled down her spine at the head of wearing Fitz’s name, both figuratively and literally.

“That’s payback for you looking all sexy on the field.” 

He looked confused for a moment. “All sexy? What—?” 

“With your amazing ass squeezed in those pants,” Jemma said, eyes rolling back when Fitz gently pressed the pad of his thumb against her clit, keeping it there like the tease he was. She was already dripping, it almost felt like she hadn’t taken a shower at all. “And you looking all sexy growling at Milton and running around, God, Fitz. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” 

Fitz still looked adorably confused, but he was never one to deny the opportunity to make Jemma feel good. Bless his big heart, and smart brain. 

“I do have a small idea that’s for sure,” he said before licking steadily from her perineum to her clit, finally moving his thumb away to let the rough patch of his tongue send zips of pleasure up her spine. Jemma let out a strangled sound, her hands finding Fitz’s hair immediately. His curls were still a little wet with sweat, and it turned her on to no ends. 

“Fitz,” she whispered, looking down. The sight of her boyfriend on his knees between her legs almost made her cum right here and then on the spot. “Oh God, I’ve been dreaming of that for hours now.”

Fitz pulled back from her pussy, licking his lips. He’d been kissing all around her entrance teasingly, and his beard was a little shiny with her cream. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me what you imagined as you watched me play.” 

Dirty talk had never been their strong suit. Mind you, Jemma liked it, adored it even. But she’d quickly realized her boyfriend was a little too shy to be too explicit, and she never quite returned the favor because he never asked. This time tho, her thighs quivered at the demand. 

“I couldn’t take it anymore,” she confessed. “I couldn’t— God, Fitz.” He used one thumbs to stroke at her glistening inner lips and the other one to uncover her clit even more, palm flat against her mound. His lips were soft but insistent against her bundle of nerves; just enough to get her whimpering before he moved to another place and left her hanging. “Fuck, I was— I couldn’t take my eyes off you. The way you look when you play… Do you know you look the exact same way when you fuck me?”

Fitz raised his head in surprise. “I do?”

“You do.” Jemma gripped his curls tight, pushing his face against her pussy once more. “God, you really do. I couldn’t stop thinking about how you haven’t fucked me in so long.” 

Fitz groaned, squirming a little. “A week is  _ hardly _ so long,” he whispered against her thigh, peppering the skin with kisses. “Did you use your new cream? Fuck, Jem. You smell so good.” 

As much as Jemma appreciated the thought, she directed his head towards her center once more. She could faintly hear the “ _ so bossy _ ” comment Fitz made against her skin, but she couldn’t care less because then he was circling her clit with his tongue and her vision whitened. 

The position was good for Jemma, but Fitz realized after a beat that his knees were aching and his neck hurt. As much as he loved going down on his girlfriend —and he really did, he didn’t like feeling sore in all the wrong ways the day after. 

“Jemma,” he said, licking her clit one more time before letting it go mournfully. Jemma whined, but he held on against her grip. “Scoot over, my knees are killing me.” 

Her eyes were a little glassy with pleasure, but Jemma did as she was told, spreading herself on the bed once more. Fitz used the occasion to shrug off his shirt and pants, and Jemma’s eyes fell on the swell of his boxer briefs. 

“I have an idea,” Fitz said as he climbed onto the bed, grabbing one of Jemma’s legs to turn her over slightly, until she was resting on her side facing him. He then kissed the corner of her lips and slid down her body until he was faced with her pussy once more. 

Jemma shivered. “Oh.”

Encouraged by the way she twitched at the first kiss he pressed against her bare mound, Fitz encouraged her to throw her leg over his shoulder. His head was completely framed by her legs now, and with her thigh covering his ear, there was nothing but  _ Jemma _ . It almost felt like she was taking away his senses for his world to revolve around her and her only, and Fitz  _ loved _ it. Jemma seemed to appreciate it as well, rolling her hips against him and pushing his face against her, and Fitz closed his eyes. All he could feel was her, her taste and her salty skin combined with her mulky scent. Her clit was firm against his tongue as he tortured it, and when her cries were muffled by her thighs around his ears, he could feel each vibration of her body. Contorting himself a little, he was able to push two steady fingers inside of her as he worked on her clit, making Jemma buck in the touch. 

“Fitz,” she mumbled eventually between her cries of pleasure, back arching. She could swear she felt all of her muscles tense as she neared her orgasm. “Fitz!”

She was close, so awfully close, but it was at that precise moment that Fitz pulled back with a loud slurping sound, pushing her thighs away as he wriggled out of her embrace. Jemma sobbed, but Fitz didn’t pay her any attention as he straightened, pushing the flat of his palm against his dick to release some pressure. 

“Get on your hands and knees,” he said, ignoring Jemma’s pitiful whine and slapping her hand away when she brought her own fingers to her clit. She was so close to coming it felt like torture, and she could feel her walls clench around nothing, begging for a pleasure that had been denied. “Hands and knees, Jemma.” Fitz repeated, voice harder. 

Jemma shivered from head to toes. Fitz rarely was demanding and bossy when it came to sex, but she loved it so very much whenever he was. She went to shrug the jersey off —she was hot and sweaty now, as if her shower had never happened— but Fitz immediately caught her hands. 

“Leave it on.” 

Whatever worked for him, Jemma thought as she turned around, sticking her ass out and letting the upper part of her body fall on the bed. She heard Fitz take a sharp intake of a breath, and she wriggled her ass just  _ because _ . The slight slap against her ass at the movement was a surprise, but Jemma let out an appreciative moan immediately. 

“God, look at you,” Fitz whispered, framing her hips with his hand. His clever fingers dug into her skin, and Jemma imagined the fingers shaped marks he would leave on her. She hoped they would stay for a little while. “Wearing my shirt, my name, and dripping wet. Fuck, Jem, you’re a wet dream come true.” 

His thumbs dug a little into her skin as he parted her legs a little wider, and Jemma shivered when the head of his cock grazed her pussy once he’d gotten rid of his boxer briefs. She was so ready it almost hurt, and she didn’t waste time in pulling back her hips, making Fitz groan in pleasure when he pushed in a little. He seemed to be as ready as she was though, because he didn’t tease her any further. Grabbing her by the waist, Fitz steadily pushed inside of her, making them both moan in concert. 

Doggy style wasn’t a position they did often, much to Jemma’s dismay. She knew Fitz loved to see her on top, and she  _ loved _ being on top, but she also loved the angle this position gave her. When he started to thrust, Jemma let out a low moan at the feeling of his balls hitting her clit with each thrust, pushing her right on the edge of her orgasm. She had no idea if Fitz was close since she hadn’t even been able to touch him since he’d come home, but she knew she was seconds away from one of the most intense orgasms she’d ever had. 

“Fuck, Jem. Always drives me fucking bonkers when you wear my shirts,” Fitz groaned as he picked up a pace, hips slapping hard against hers. Jemma could barely catch her breath, each movement tearing up a moan from her mouth and leaving her dizzy with pleasure. 

“Fitz,” she managed to groan, not even sure he could hear her with her face smashed against the pillow like this. “So— so good.” 

Fitz whined, rhythm faltering a little. Jemma could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks where their bodies were slamming together, her skin red and warm. Contorting herself a little, she was able to catch a glance at her boyfriend. He was looking up at the ceiling, brows drawn tight together and lips moving around what looked like a silent prayer. His thrusts were almost non-existent now, and Jemma could feel her orgasm slowly fading away. She almost wanted to sob, but disbelief washed away her frustration when she caught a few words of what Fitz was reciting endlessly. 

“Are you reciting the periodic table?” 

Fitz grunted, his hands tightening on her hips to still them. “I’m trying to.” 

“I’m on the verge of coming, and you’re reciting the periodic table.” Jemma couldn’t quite believe her ears. 

Fitz’s eyes fell upon her immediately. “Wait, you’re close?” 

“Yes!” Jemma narrowed her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re trying your best to hold on when I’m so damn close, or I swear will kill you. I’ve wanted that orgasm since I was sitting down watching you play your stupid match with your stupid outfit and your stupid curls, and I deserve to come.” 

In lieu of a reply, Fitz sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed the pad of his middle finger against her clit. Jemma’s reaction was immediate, and she let out a low moan as her pussy fluttered around his length. 

“Oh,  _ that _ close,” Fitz said in wonder. Jemma wanted to strangle him. 

She did however lose all of her urges for murder when Fitz started moving again, his finger playing with her little numb in a way that made her back tense and legs tremble. He knew how to play her body perfectly, and Jemma slid towards her orgasm so fast it was actually scary. All it took for her to stumble upon the edge was the feeling of Fitz’s rough beard against the back of her neck as he lay his body against her back, free hand digging in the mattress next to her torso and the angle of his cock hitting  _ just _ the right place inside of her. His movements were shorter but deeper this way, and Jemma barely muffled her scream against the bedding as her entire body shook. 

The combined feeling of Fitz inside of her and his fingers never letting go of her clit made her go absolutely mad with pleasure, and she barely realized that he’d followed her upon the edge. Her knees gave up and they both fell on the bed in an awkward set of limbs, grunting when they fell on the wet spot. 

“Next time, you ought to tell me that you’re close before I try to hold myself back,” Fitz grunted half heartedly. 

Jemma chuckled, her abs a little sore from the way she’d clenched around Fitz with each thrust. “You know, we should do that more often.”

Fitz opened his eyes, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Wha— Are you trying to be the death of me woman?” 

“Maybe,” Jemma said, looking down at the Jersey she was still wearing. “But you started it.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on social media, on my fanfiction dedicated [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/phlebotinxm) for updates on this story as well as small snippets from my other works, or my [main account](https://twitter.com/KeptinOnZeBridg)!


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